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http://wvyw.archive.org/details/shepherdmythoughOOdonn 



SHEPHERD MY THOUGHTS 



BOOKS OF 

FRANCIS P. DONNELLY, SJ. 

Watching an Hour 

The Holy Hour in Gethsemane 

The Heart of the Gospel 

The Heart of Revelation 

Mustard Seed 

Chaff and Wheat 

Shepherd My Thoughts (Verses) 

Attractively bound in clothy 
i6mo, net .75 each 



SHEPHERD MY THOUGHTS 

THE VERSES 

OF 

FRANCIS P. DONNELLY 




NEW YORK 
P. J. KENEDY & SONS 

1918 






COPYRIGHT, 1918 
BY P. J. KENEDY & SONS 



JUL 31 1918 






«> 



^ 



S)G1.A4999G7 



ro rou 



TIS a little gift that I give you. 
But enshrining it, felt tho' unseen/ 
I give you another fair treasure, 

Prized alike by the peasant or queen ; 
I give you what sweetens all language; 

The beauty that haunts every scene; 
The fountain that sends the blood rilling; 

The blooming which keeps the heart green; 
The dawn of the happiest daytimes ; 

The evening of memories serene ; 
The spur and the charm of endeavor ; 

Lifes rest and life's rivalry keen ; 
I give what is yours in full measure — 

With this goes my — Guess what I mean ! 



AT WORCESTER 

COLLEGE OF THE HOLY CROSS 

THE YEAR OF DIAMOND JUBILEE 

1843-I918 



CONTENTS 

VERSES 

PAGE 

Shepherd My Thoughts i 

In Trials 2 

Once More! 3 

His Bow in the Clouds ^ 

And They Were Very Good 6 

Creation 8 

The First Flower 9 

Enarrant Gloriam Dei 10 

Whitlow-Grass 11 

To a Friend la 

Consolation i4 

In Pain i5 

" Friend, Whereto Art Thou Come.^ "... 16 

The Sun of Justice 18 

"As Little C{iildren" 19 

Sermons in Seeds 20 

The Optimist 22 

Hepatica 23 

To THE End 24 

"The Heart Watches" 26 

The Debt 26 

A Present 27 

The Golden Rod 28 

Easter 3o 

Hope 3i 

SONGS 

To Cardinal Martinelli 35 

What an Irishman Means by Machree . . 36 

For an Anniversary 38 

vii 



Purple and Silver 4o 

Father O'Kane 44 

The Flag of Our Skies 46 

The Service Flag 48 

Song for Fordham Men 5o 

Spring Song 52 

A Golden Jubilee 54 

War Song 55 

Peace Song 58 

From the Altar 6i 

Evening Song 62 

VERSES 

Compensation 67 

Difficulties, Not Doubts 68 

Out of the Mouth of Infants 69 

Tongues in Trees 70 

In the Fourth Watch 72 

Unless the Grain of Wheat Die 78 

The Immaculate Conception 74 

Humility 76 

November and December 77 

Why Not? 78 

The Voices of the Irish 79 

The Teacher 80 

To Mother M. Xavier 81 

Be My Valentine ! 82 

Vanity of Vanities 83 

Temptation 84 

On Hearing Loud Laughter 85 

A Wish 86 

Forebodings 87 

The Rainbow 88 

viii 



The Victory 89 

Promise 90 

A Growth of Many Years 91 

Faith 92 

And His Own Life Also qZ 

The Heavens Are Telling 94 

All Things unto Good 96 

Confidence 96 

To a Portrait 97 

Sanctity 98 

Sweet Charity 99 

St. Valentine's Day 100 

The Temples of the Spirit loi 

Prayer 102 

Blood-Root io3 

Obedience io4 

Reaping the Whirlwind io5 

The Frost 106 

A Prayer 108 

IN MEMORIAM 

In Vain in 

W. J. D 112 

Samuel H. Frisbee, S.J ii4 

To A Mother 116 

To A Young Patriot 118 

Semper Paratus 119 

"Death and the Sculptor" 120 

VERSES 

SURSUM CoRDA I 123 

The Heart of a Valentine 124 

Homer i25 

ix 



Queen of the Evangelists 126 

In Prayer , 127 

Thro' a Glass in a Dark Manner 128 

Adoration i3o 

In a Church i3i 

Remorse 182 

The Marvels of Hygiene i33 

My Standard i34 

"History in a Back Yard" i35 

Too Soon! i36 

The Way to Bethlehem 187 

A Christmas Wish i38 

A Christmas Star 189 

Old Days on the Susquehanna i4o 

Miracles i44 

A Request i45 

At Last i46 

Notes i48 



VERSES 



SHEPHERD MY THOUGHTS 



I 



WISH to pray and from the ceaseless war 
Of worry summon forth the sweet dehght 
Of holy peace. Full easily from sight, 
But scarcely from the soul, the world I bar. 
My flocks of thoughts, how timorous they are I 
They rush where fairer pasture lands invite, 
Down easy hollows from the harder height; 
And one and ninety-nine are lost afar. 
Good Master, they are Thine and know Thy 

voice; 
Send it now sounding down the devious ways 
And dark, where they have wandered from 

Thy care. 
Ah, surely they will harken and rejoice. 
And thronging flock to meet Thy kindly 

gaze; 
Shepherd my thoughts and fold them into 
prayer. 



IN TRIALS 

JL PUT my frightened hand in Thine, 

Father, and look to Thy dear face; 
Stretching these childish steps of mine 
To keep the measm'e of Thy pace. 



ONCE MORE 



o, 



NCE more the long rays flash from crest 

to crest 

Of changing clouds across the evening skies; 

Once more the red smi fills me with surprise, 

Sinking — the same and not the same — to 

rest. 
"Once more!" The phrase with hope is sweetly 
blest; 
For tho' the day's white brilliance slowly dies 
From gold to grey before my wondering eyes, 
I look for other sunsets in the west. 
Past hopes, oh, what will fuse the flush of youth 
Throughout your gloom and make you white 

with day? 
Past hopes of mine, you were, alas, in part 
Of blind years born and paled with time and 

truth, 
Yet ere you merge into the twilight grey, 
With sunset glory flood once more my heart. 



Yi 



HIS BOW IN THE CLOUDS 



ES, span your sky with the rainbow arch 
And seek where its bases rest; 
Nor ever flag in your onward march, 
Nor cool in your ardent quest. 

What if the clouds should thickly roll 

To darken the sky again, 
Emblazon the bow on a daiing soul 

And plunge thro' the blinding rain. 

Ah, aging years — they are wary and cold — 
May on youth's fair visions frown, 

And doubt of the hues and doubt of the gold 
And doubt if the ends come down. 



But on I You shall find the golden crock; 

All your ships shall sail home to you, 
And all your sheep to their fold shall flock, 

And all of your dreams come true. 

The Weaver Who wove that irised zone, 
Who gives the heart hopes to hold, 

He binds "a rainbow about His throne"; 
And *'the street of His City is gold.'* 



AND THEY WERE VERY GOOD 

*^God saw all the things that he had made, and 
they were very good.'' 

^ J. CYNIC 

X OU poets scan one star with eager eyes 
And trace the narrow path its twinklings take 
Across great space, or when your thirst you 
slake, 
Marvelling you watch the spring's bright 

bubbles rise ; 
You follow dropping snow down from the skies 
Until it weaves its fleeces flake by flake; 
You search for haunts where first the flowers 
awake 
And cherish their remembrance as a prize." 



POET 

"Must we crave pardon from a world's finance 
Because we love these things and reckon not 
Profit and loss of season, sky and sod? 
These trifles profitless have known the glance 
Of their Creator. Blest the poet's lot, 
Rethinking the creative thoughts of God!" 



CREATION 

vJrOD'S purpose held thro' cycles long, 

Awaiting a dawn sublime; 
Then the sunUght of eternity 

Broke o'er the hills of time. 



8 



THE FIRST FLOWER 



B 



^ABE of the wood, the first flower of the 

year, 
Sprung from the darkened depths of seed 

and root, 
How lightly do you wear your swaddling 
suit 
While gently cradled by the breezes near I 
The stream of Hfe which finds new outlet here. 
Has coursed thro' centuries of flower and 

fruit; 
In you again it rises to recruit 
Its currents and again to disappear. 
Awhile I pause upon fife's mystery, 
Caught by your new-born beauty as I roam. 
And feel an awe commingfing with defight. 
We meet a moment as upon a sea; 
You flash for me a sudden flake of foam, 
Melting while I pass swiftly out of sight. 







ENARRANT GLORIAM DEI 



A 



SOWER scattered His golden grains 
On heaven's barren ways 
That men might reap from the starry plains 
The harvests of His praise. 



10 



WHITLOW-GRASS 



M 



ARCH is here and winter's sting 
Tingles yet in wind and mist ; 
March is here and with it Spring 
Comes to keep its yearly tryst. 

Bending head against the breeze, 
Down along the path I pass — 

There beneath the leafless trees 
Shines the low, white Whitlow-Grass! 

All the boisterous, misty storm 

Sweeps not downward where you stay; 

Bravely lift your fragile form, 
Giving joy while yet you may. 

White star of the floral dawn, 
Brief and hopeful solace bring. 

Ere your petals pale anon 
Mid the myriad bloom of Spring I 

II 



TO A FRIEND 

Vy H, time has done my green wood grievous 
wrong 
And fallen trmik and branch in mire 

immersed; 
From their black ooze, strange broods have 
burst, 
Buzzing amid the former haunts of song. 
Rough ridges stretch their bleak, hot crags 
along. 
Nor all the showers of heaven can quench 

their thirst. 
The garden of my life with swamp is cursed 
And desert, where the blossoms loved to 
throng." 



12 



"Thy hand, my friend; and pick thy way 
with me 

Down where the drainage and the mould beget 

The fragrance of the fair white violet. 

A firmer grasp now! Up the rocks, and see! 

The May-flowers trail and shed their sweetness 
there! 

Take heart! God's world reblossoms every- 
where.'* 



i3 



CONSOLATION 

X HE world within my saddened heart 
Is clouded everywhere, 
TiU all the gloom is riven apart, 
By the golden shafts of prayer. 



i4 



IN PAIN 



I 



WAS baffled to understand 

The mystery of sorrow and pain; 
That to sever from even my blood 

I must offer and never complain; 
When Love showed His palm-pierced hand 

And the wounds in His wearied feet; 
Then my dark thoughts understood 

That the shedding of blood is sweet. 



i5 



"FRIEND, WHERETO ART 
THOU COME?" 

lO, I am there in Gethsemane's hush, 
And I now may stop one blood-red drop, 
Or turn the press till the life-wine gush; 
And Christ kneels waiting for me. 

And my fingers are picking the sharp thorns 
now; 
One less may be pulled or one may be 
dulled; 
Or all may poignantly pierce His brow; 
And Christ sits waiting for me. 



i6 



The scourge poises quivering over its prey. 

Shall its coils unfling for a venomous sting, 
Or once be unfleshed and unbloodied today? 

Ah, Christ stands waiting for me. 

Come now, my soul, choose thy fateful part. 

Wilt thou scoff and jeer and drive deep the 
spear, 
Or yield Him a mother's arms and heart? 

Come, Christ hangs dying for thee! 



17 



THE SUN OF JUSTICE 



G, 



IHRIST'S love flamed forth the brightest 

On CalvEiry long ago, 
And sank in a blood-red sunset 

O'er the darkened hill of woe; 
But its rays still touch the ages 

With a heavenly after-glow. 



i8 



"AS LITTLE CHILDREN" 



A 



CHILD will knit his forehead like a sage 
And gravely with pursed lip begin to con 
His earliest lesson, slowly one by one, 
Spelling the words whose mysteries engage 
The perplexed thoughts of his unripened age. 
Great is the toil until the task is done, 
And eye and mind in happy unison 
Glide on along the line and down the page. 
Ah, there are letters in a larger book 
Which baffle older heads, which patient faith 
Alone can spell. Such are untoward events, 
Life, sin and sorrow. Hopefully we look 
Beyond, when riper wisdom after death 
Shall read aright the page of Providence. 



19 



SERMONS IN SEEDS 

J_j0! the Spring has its birth. In the dark, 
softened earth 
There is motion in silence and toil without 
rest; 
Where the heritage seed from the last year's 
dead 
Kept the pride of the Summer to come in its 
breast; 
Where now waked from its death by the 
Spring's warm breath 
The seed drives a shoot thro' the shroud of 
the clay, 
Pushing up thro' the gloom, slowly up from its 
tomb, 
Breaking out into life and the Ught of the 
day; 
Till the plant with new power reaches up to 
the flower. 
Irresistibly up to the flower full-blown; 

20 



Till the promise long hid in the heart of the 
seed 
Is brought to the fulness of life and its 
crown. 
Ah! down in the deep of the heart nigh asleep 
Are there hidden no hopes for the true and 
the good, 
No longings for right that would fain see the 
Hght, 
Or urgings to higher things too long with- 
stood? 
Then beg the blest dower of the Saviour's 
death hour, 
Beg His Spring a dead will to awake and 
control. 
Till the wish, the heart's seed, be fulfilled in 
the deed. 
In the deed, the true flower of the life of the 
soul. 



21 



THE OPTIMIST 



Ea] 



lRTH'S widest realms have not the im- 
perial sway 
That he has won to his supreme control; 
Nor Josue's might could make so long a day; 
Never shall sunlight set within his soul. 



22 



HEPATICA 



I 



SAW the lowly liver-leaf today 
Unfold its purple petals to the Spring, 
Timid but trustful, for the Ungering sting 
Of unthawed Winter checks profuse display. 
No rival of tall sister-blooms of May, 

It nestles down where Autumn's dead leaves 

cUng, 
Too low for wild March winds roughly to 
swing 
Its loose-hung sheaf of blossoms bound with 

clay. 
Ah, worldlings, walk the woods for early 

flowers, 
Turning aside from fashion, war and trade, 
To learn the lessons that will calm and bless: 
How beauty should not brave ungenial powers; 
How lowhness has charms which never fade; 
How worth grows cheap thro' wanton com- 
monness. 

23 



TO THE END 



w, 



HEN every stream from every part 
Had shed for us its crimson flood, 
The spear was reddened in Christ's Heart 
And drained the fomitain-head of blood. 



24 



"THE HEART WATCHES" 

HE sea comes surging in with troubled 
breast, 
And on the losing sand the sheets of tide 
Fall prone, then, lifted farther, landward 
slide 
In restlessness forever unreprest. 
The ceaseless surface change of gulf and crest 
Stirs not the inner waters pacified ; 
The sea's great heart there to its heavenly 
guide 
Sways, stately moving, but in stately rest. 
So down below the pulse of wayward thought. 
The flood of hope, the dark ebb of despair, 
Below the fading foam of many a whim. 
Deep in the spirit's depths calm love has sought 
Its Lover, tending heavenward in prayer, 
And every drop of heart-blood sways to Him. 



a5 



THE DEBT 



'T, 



IS myself is proud of our land, 
Its law and liberty; 
But blood and brain and the smile in grief 
And hope*s sure gain and my heart's belief, 

They came across the sea; 
And the years of strife where my father strove, 
And the sweets of Hfe in my mother's love, 
'Twas St. Patrick gave to Ireland, 
And Ireland gave to me. 



26 



A PRESENT 

WO loving lads once planned a glad sur- 
prise 
To please their father's heart. They would 

bestow 
A gift on him, and many a whisper low 
And long debating followed to devise 
What gifts were best. But then their purse 
suppUes 
Alas! no means. Dissembling they must go 
Their father's help to ask; not shrewd to 
know, 
BUnded by love, that he their present buys. 
Our Father, we are children ; we possess 
A childish mind ; forget when we restore 
Your gifts to You, that they were from above. 
Yet You are patient with our childishness, 
WiUing to give us all the world and more, 
If we but only give it back in love. 



27 



THE GOLDEN ROD 



w, 



ITH brilliant plumes displayed on high, 
The last ranks of the flowers pass by; 
The golden-rod is far and nigh 

This crisp and crystal weather. 
From golden sheaves to golden leaves 
It welds a golden link that weaves 

The autumn months together. 

Its thousand tiny fountains play, 
I fancy, on this autumn day, 
And spurt aloft their jets of spray, 

To sway in poising showers; 
Or else I dream a cloud of gold 
Across our autumn world has rolled 

And left its fleece for flowers. 



28 



In vain does fancy strive to show 

The mysteries that from it flow, 

That make my heart with gladness glow 

An J beat with raptm-e faster; 
In vain such dreams would paint for me 
Its beauty bending gracefully 

Above the purple aster. 

Alas! these golden glories must 
Be dimmed into a faded rust; 
And into floating points of dust 

Its clustered lustre sever. 
Its leaves must feel the winter's breath 
And don the sombre shades of death 

And pass from us forever. 



ao 



/ 



EASTER 

EACE — and the stormy surges 
Are calmed by divine behest; 

Peace — and our sins' sharp scourges 
Shall no more the spirit infest; 

Peace — and the world emerges 
From ruin to Easter rest. 



3o 



HOPE 

T 

JL HE wide horizon of the world 

Is flooded with the light, 
Ere yet the golden orb of day 

Has blazed upon the sight; 
So heaven's dawn may break upon 

Time's short, unhappy night, 
And the clouds that roll within the soul 

Will grow all silver white. 



3i 



SONGS 



TO CARDINAL MARTINELLI 



Oi 



'F old thy brothers knew thy worth, 
As priest to teach, as priest to guide; 
They hailed thee, father, round the earth; 
They sang thy fame both far and wide. 
And we their greeting are now repeating: 
All hail our priest! Long life to thee! 

Then fairer honors fell to thee, 
A prelate made of our loved land, 

And our loved land full joyously 

Has blessed thy strong but gentle hand. 
And we its greeting are now repeating: 
Our prelate hail! Long life to thee! 

Now princely power is given thee ; 

A world its fealty has sworn. 
And greets thy red-robed royalty, 

World-rival to the red of morn. 

And we that greeting are now repeating: 

All hail our prince! Long life to thee! 

35 



WHAT AN IRISHMAN MEANS 
BY MACHREEi 

RAY come and interpret this Gaelic for 

me, 
And tell what an Irishman means by 

^Machree.'" 
*' 'Tis the white of the day and the warmth of 

the smi; 
The ripple of waters that laughingly run; 
The sweet bloom of youth, the harvest of years; 
The gold of all smiles and the salt of all tears, 
'Tis the thrill of the hand and the Ught of the 

eye; 
The glow of the cheek and the lip's parting 

cry; 
'Tis mother; 'tis father; 'tis children and 

wife; 
The music of woman's — the wine of man's . 

— life; 



36 



'Tis all that he lives for and hopes for above; 
'Tis an Irishman's heart making vocal his love; 
The whole of creation and one isle in the sea : — 
And that's what an Irishman means by 
*Machree."' 

X IS "Machree" that exults in a warm, 

throbbing heait, 
When he takes his colleen until death do them 

part; 
'Tis "Machree" that he croons to sweet, 

newly born charms, 
When a wisp of a child nestles snug in his 

arms; 
Tis "Machree" that he feels in the twilight of 

days. 
When himself and herself look far back on 

life's ways; 
"Machree," ah, is wrung from a heart an- 
guished sore, 
If herself or the children have gone on before. 

37 



FOR AN ANNIVERSARY 
Air: Flow gently ^ sweet AJton 

V-/H, seasons on seasons have travelled their 

way 
With rich showers of sunshine and brief veils of 

grey, 
Since back in the years that have spread wing 

and flown, 
Enhsted and fighting you stood with God's 

own. 
A gladness has shone round your numerous 

days 
And tho' some dark sadness at times dimmed 

its rays. 
Yet laughter erelong looked the brighter thro' 

tears. 
For God's love has blessed you these many 

long yeai's. 



38 



Not alone for yourself was the good boon of 

joy; 

Not alone for yourself was the kind, cloudless 

sky; 
On others the tide of God's gifts you bestowed 
As full in the ebbing as once in the flood. 
So now for the saddened whose days you made 

glad, 
For us who have shared all the treasures you 

had, 
We sing loving thanks as this fair day appears 
And bless God who blest you for many long 

years. 



39 



PURPLE AND SILVER 

For Rt. Rev. Thomas D. Beaveris 
Episcopal Jubilee 

Air: Cahiramee {Gaelic Melody) 

A. HE dawn's empurpling clouds, blanching 
to silver white, 
Bring all their beauty here to gladden your 
Jubilee; 
The purple shades of eve, silver stars of night, 
Bring all their beauty here to gladden your 
Jubilee. 
While time slipped away, time of toil and fray, 
Many the hearts you blest this quarter a 
century; 
The fair and grateful days sing their Father's 
praise, 
Bring all their beauty here to gladden your 
Jubilee. 



4o 



The clusters of purple grape daily chaliced and 
shed 
Harvest their fruitage here to hallow your 
Jubilee; 
The grains of golden wheat silvered in altar- 
bread 
Harvest their fruitage here to hallow your 
Jubilee; 
Priesthood's holy type, crushed when fair and 
ripe, 
Offered day by day this quarter a century I 
The bread and wine made Christ, as Priest you 
sacrificed; 
Now with their fruitage rich they hallow 
your Jubilee. 



4i 



The Shepherd's purple and crook, guarding 
the fold in peace, 
Tell of the gain of years enriching your 
Jubilee ; 
The flock of your shepherding, souls of a silver 
fleece. 
Tell of the gain of years eniiching your 
Jubilee. 
Cloistered nun and priest, loftiest and least, 
Thronging flock to bless your quarter of 
century. 
And hearts from every home hailing their 
Bishop come; 
Tell of the gain of years enriching your 
Jubilee. 



42 



The work and wisdom of time coins to silver 
your hair; 
Hail, Son of Holy Cross, welcome your 
Jubilee! 
And health thro* your every vein purples in 
vintage rare; 
Hail, Son of Holy Cross, welcome your 
Jubilee! 
Silver our voices ring; warm is the love we sing. 
Pride of our hearts and friend this quarter a 
century; 
The Purple waves o*er you, Purple for comrade 
true; 
Hail, Son of Holy Cross, welcome your 
Jubilee! 



43 



FATHER O'KANE 

Golden Jubilee of M. A, O'Kane, S.J, 
Air: Larry 0' Gaff 



w, 



HITE harvests were glistening, 
And the call found you listening; 
When of old you went hastening 

Down Linden Lane. 
Now 'neath its gold leaves for us 
What your reaping achieves for us, 
You bring in gold sheaves for us. 

Father O'Kane! 

CHO. Ah, 'tis you have the way with you 
That makes our hearts gay with you, 
Laughing all day with you 
And the next day again. 
God keep the eyes dry in you, 
And hush every sigh in you, 
Till heaven puts its joy in you. 
Father O'Kane. 
44 



All the minds you have brightened and 
The souls you have whitened and 
The hearts you have lightened and 

Freed from their pain, 
From the past they come winging now; 
Their thanks they are bringing now, 
And with us they are singing now, 

Father O'Kanel 

Here are brothers who treasure you, 
And a home glad to pleasure you, 
And warm hearts that measure you 

Far beyond the world's gain. 
Holy Cross unites cheers in you; 
Son and Father reveres in you. 
And crowns fifty years in you. 

Father O'Kanel 



45 



THE FLAG OF OUR SKIES 

Air: Pontifical March of Gounod 



R> 



.ED with the brightness 
That flames the sky at coming morn; 

White with the whiteness 
That floods the day when fully born; 

Blue with the azure 
Of heaven and its starry host; 

Hail to our treasure, 
Our flag, our love, our proudest boast! 

Then let it float with the glories of the skies, 
And let it roll far on high its white and its 
red united bars; 



46 



Fling out its folds for the storm king it defies; 
And let it flash through the gloom all the 

lightning of its sUver stars. 
Aye, let it float with its hues from the skies 

above it, 
With the red of the dawn, the white of the 

day, the blue of the night, we love it. 

Wave it, proudly wave it; 

With your Hfe's blood gladly save it; 

Praise God Who gave it. 

The flag of the good and the true. 
Round it now bravely stand. 
Guard it ever with a strong right hand; 
Love the banner of your native land, 

The Red, White and Blue. 



47 



B, 



THE SERVICE FLAG 2 



►E our Service Flag unfurled 
For our brothers thro' the world, 
Who in battle bravely muster 
To emblazon freedom's lustre; 
Who, wherever they may be, 
Are revered in memory, 
Where our banner keeps the cluster 
Of their stars. 
CHO. Pray heaven stay beside them, 
And ever safely guide them, 
And o'er all danger tide them. 

To come back in glory; 
They have heard their country's call ; 
They have given her their all; 
And our flag enshrines the story 
In their stars. 
It was Service bade them come; 
They have gone from out our home; 
All the hnks of life are broken, 
And the parting word is spoken; 

48 



And for us they spend their breath, 
And for us they march to death, 
And for us they leave a token 

In their stars. 
With the rifle and the blade, 
With the shell and hand-grenade. 
With the great propellers twirling 
Thro' the wind and water whirling. 
With their healing and their prayer. 
They are serving everywhere; 
And our banner waves unfurling 
All their stars. 
Let the starry flag unroll 
For the Service of their soul, 
For their fervor flaming ever, 
For their hearts' supreme endeavor! 
They shall cross red fields of fight 
To the peaceful field of white, 
Where our love forgets them never 
In their stars. 



49 



A SONG FOR FORDHAM MEN ^ 

HEN here's a health to Fordham, 
The builder of our blood! 
For your high honor, Fordham, 

Our rivals are withstood; 
Upon your campus, Fordham, 
We grapple in the fight, 
And from the fray we bear away 
The victory of might. 
CHO. Then Fordham's honored name 
With loyal love proclaim ; 
And lift your voice, my brother; 
Sing the fair fame of your mother; 
And pledge to dear old Fordham 

The measure of full praise, 
That tongue to tongue shall roll along 
Thro' all the coming days. 
And here's long life to Fordham, 

The moulder of our mind! 
You light the darkness, Fordham; 
You teach us who were blind; 
5o 



Youl' kind hands guide us, Fordham, 
Along the paths of lore, 
And out to life and out to strife 
We march with you before. 

Here's warmth of love to Fordham, 
The kindler of our heart! 

You give us friendships, Fordham, 
That never shall depart. 

Alas! We leave you, Fordham, 
With hands unclasping hands; 

But hearts are right and hearts unite 
Across the seas and lands. 
All glory to great Fordham 

Inspirer of our soul ! 
We bend in reverence, Fordham, 

To bless your high control. 
You raised our visions, mother, 

Above the clay and clod, 
And gave us zest to dare the best 

For country and for God. 



5i 



SPRING SONG 

lOOK, valley and hill with a new ardor 

thrill, 
And thousands of flowers they bring, 
While the balm of the air breathes sweet here 
and there; 
But, ah, somewhere else there is Spring. 
From quickening root up to ruddy, ripe fruit, 

Fairest blossoms grow sweetly today ; 
And the bloom of the heart flings its petals 
apart 
And unfolds to the love of its May. 

Oh, the Spring, you may see, the old, old Spring, 
Every year when the snows depart; 

But, ah, there has come a new-, new Spring, 
That shall ever be sweet in the heart. 



52 



Hark, the wood and the lane have their voices 
again, 

And the birds in wild revelry sing. 
Till each musical cry win somewhere a reply; 

But, ah, somewhere else there is Spring. 
From chords throbbing deep, sweet harmonies 
leap 

And whispers go winging away ; 
Hark, out of the heart echoed melodies start 

And answer the love of its May. 



53 



A GOLDEN JUBILEE 



E 



IFTY years of working for the Master, 
Full of joy or sorrow tho' they be, 
Fifty years of service claim rejoicings; 
And we keep a Golden Jubilee. 

At the dawn the gold is on the mountains; 

Tis the herald of the coming day. 
In the eve the crests of clouds are golden; 

'Tis the glory ere the drear decay. 

But our hfe has here no other dawning, 
Nor shall splendor clothe man's evening 
years. 

It was not the gold of night or morning 
Gave this happy time the name it bears. 

Nay, we saw the fruitful yield of Autumn, 
Mellow with the sunlight garnered in; 

And we give this time the name of golden, 
Which its half-a-hundred harvests win. 

54 



WAR SONG 

Written for a play concerning the Indian 
Missionaries 



I 



N the thick of the glade we have ground 
the bright blade 
And the feel of it thiills us with rapture, 
As with stealthy tread like the feet of the dead 
We follow the foe to their capture. 
Let not a twig break lest the Huron awake 
And lose us the vengeance we cherish ; 
But nigher and nigher we will creep to their fire 
Till they wake to our blades and all perish. 

War, war, great spirit of war. 

Lover of vengeance, come, thrill us, 

Till the foe meet their fate and our hatred 

we sate; 
With the might of revenge, come, fill us. 



55 



Ha, see they arise benumbed by surprise, 

And in scattering terror we rush them; 

Hand to hand thro' the night we clutch in the 

fight 
Till we beat them to earth and we crush them. 
Then at last we're supreme at the dawn's red 

beam, 
While redder the captured town blazes; 
Then at last the glad shout rings exulting about 
And we chant war's victorious praises. 

War, war, great spirit of war. 

Victorious spirit, come thrill us. 

Till the foe meet their fate and our hatred 

we sate; 
With the might of your triumph, come, fill 

us. 



56 



Oh, the battle we bless with the sweets of 

success, 
With the bUss that from vengeance emerges; 
And exultant we feel at the grip of the steel 
When the lust of the fight madly urges; 
But the glorying boast o'er the foe's routed host 
Gives us day after day newer pleasure. 
And homeward we tread with the spoils of the 

dead 
That our proud hearts forever shall treasure. 

Wgir, war, spirit of war, 

Bringer of booty, come, thrill us, 

Till the foe meet their fate and our hatred 

we sate, 
With the might of your riches, come, fill us. 



57 



PEACE SONG 

Written for a play concerning the 
Indian Missionaries 



G 



(OME, morn, from the reddening sky 
After the gloomy night; 
Break, light, thro' the clouds on high, 
Speeding the storm to flight. 
The roaring gales are whispering low; 
The echoes of thunder cease; 
The world is white with cheerful glow; 
This is the day of peace. 

Peace, peace, let its gladness shine; 

And give us the war's surcease; 

Where the lips prolong the light heart's song 

At the silver day of peace. 



68 



Loose, Winter, the icy chain 

That fetters with death the earth; 

Wing, Spring, in glad flight again, 

Wooing the lands to birth; 

Till hollow and hill with new life fill, 

And flower and fruit increase; 

And the tall green maize its tassels displays; 

This is the harvest of peace. 

Peace, peace, let its gladness grow; 

And give us the war's surcease; 

Where the Hps prolong the light heart's song 

At the golden harvest of peace. 



59 



Home, home, we welcome you home, 

Near to the family fire; 

No more on war's path to roam 

Away from our hearts' desire. 

Oh, fathers and brothers with us abide 

And our captive spirits release, 

Till we laugh with you by our mother's side 

In the happy homes of peace. 

Peace, peace, let its gladness come, 

And give us the war's surcease 

Where the lips prolong the Ught heart's song 

In the happy homes of peace. 



60 



FROM THE ALTAR 



G, 



IVE ear, tho' louder and louder the din, 

And the world surges wild about ; — 
Give ear to My call where I yearn within, 

Where I knock that I may come out: 
Out where you labor and labor on, 

Out to your pain's surcease, 
Out till the storm be over and gone, 

And you rest in refreshing peace. 

Give closer ear to the beat upon beat 

You may hear if you hold not apart. 
No roughened hands do the sounds repeat; 

'Tis the pulse of My Heart on your heart. 
Let me enter into My only home, 

In where no warmth is denied; 
In to your love, say ''Come," say, "Come," 

Till My Heart in your heart abide. 



6i 



EVENING SONG 



G. 



lURFEW chimes have stilled their pealing, 
And the world in slumber lies; 
Sweetest dreams o'er men are stealing; 

Starlit are the darkened skies. 

Peace and joy of heart possess you I 

Sweetest dreams forever bless you, 

Till reveille's ringing horn 

Wakes the echoes of the morn I 

Thro' the pale and purple even 

Clearly shines the moon's fair light; 
Countless are the stars of heaven 

Gleaming thro' the gloom of night. 
Heaven gives us other brightness, 
Gives our hearts a gladsome lightness. 
Sweet the promise of that ray, 
Promise of eternal day. 



62 



Sweetly sleep till dawning morrow, 

Wake you with its glad, red glow; 
Sweetly sleep, all free from sorrow. 

Free from care and vexing woe. 
Peace and joy of heart possess you I 
Sweetest dreams forever bless you. 
Till the Lord's reveille horn 
Wakes you to unending morn I 



63 



VERSES 



COMPENSATION 

URGED clean of the ash and the clinker, 
The flame to sheer lustre is brought; 

For the wassail and warmth of the drinker 
The wine-press has cruelly wrought; 

Faint not nor flinch, toiling thinker, 
Joy waits on the birth-pangs of thought. 



67 



DIFFICULTIES, NOT DOUBTS 



Ai 



.H, Lord, dark questionings my life perplex, 
Entangling me in mazes of deceit; 
Yet grant, tho' many things my reason vex, 
My heart may keep forever at Thy feet. 



68 



OUT OF THE MOUTH OF 

INFANTS 



w, 



HEN some great wonder meets an 
infant's eyes 
Ere yet his growing powers are unbound 
From slowly loosening fetters, then full 
round 
Open his eyelids in alarmed surprise; 
And struggling with his feebleness he tries 
To give this wondrous truth thus newly found 
Full utterance in one word, one crowded 
sound, , 

Scarce different from his first unmeaning cries. 
We struggle, too, God, with thoughts of Thee, 
To give them tongue, to bring within our 
reach 
The few, faint rays flashed from Thy mystery, 

In helpless volumes darkly mirroring each. 
Our infant minds of Thy infinity 
Can only babble in weak human speech. 

69 



TONGUES IN TREES 



A 



MULTITUDE of crximpled leaves sprang 

forth, 
Spreading their brighter faces to the sun; 
And on their youth a snow of blossoms feU, 
Flowers of fair promise melting one by one. 

FuU gladly borne by ever sinking boughs 
The fruit went ripening to its golden prime, 

Flushed to the rind with ruddy mellowness, 
And swollen with the sweets of summer-time. 



70 



Bare tree, you mourn now in the winter gale; 

Thrice shorn, you long to have your triple 

crown. 

The winds have all your blossoms, all your 

leaves; 

Your better gifts on us were showered down. 

Why mourn that youth's brief bloom has 
faded quite. 

That life for you is sere and perishing.^ 
If Hfe's decay was blest with fruitfulness, 

Be glad tho' you should see no other Spring. 



71 



IN THE FOURTH WATCH 



w> 



HEN the dark, impending future shapes 
into a spectral form, 
And the heart leaps out all vocal in a cry, 
From the gloom and threatening shadows, 
ruling o'er the risen storm. 
Comes the Master's peaceful whisper, "It 
is I." 



73 



UNLESS THE GRAIN OF 
WHEAT DIE 



H] 



.IS Mother! Had I not well understood, 
When all His weakness fondly clung to me 
And I upon His clouded infancy 
Lavished the full wEU'm dawn of motherhood; 
Or when my soul surged high, cresting the flood 
Of mother pride and mother sympathy, 
While He in gracious strength thro' Galilee 
Trod His unwearying ways of constant good? 
His Mother! What rills else enriched that 
spring? — 
Then Satan's fury ruthless at Him drove 
And flung across my knees my bleeding 
Lord 
Naked and helpless for new mothering. 
I knew at last death quickens perfect love 
Out of dark heart-depths harrowed by the 
sword. 



73 



THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION 



F. 



ROM heaven world-ward came the morn 

And found along the reddening sky 
One cloud that caught a far-sent ray 

And flashed all silver upon high. 
First herald of the Hght new-born, 

It won and gave to waiting earth 
All the bright glory of the day, 

Which thro' its fleeces came to birth. 

A lily feU from heaven's hand, 

Upborne upon a cleansing flood. 
Straightway it widened full and white 

Without a taint in seed or bud 
Far from the suUying touch of land, 

It shone like one lone star apart, 
And aU its beauty, aU its hght 

Glowed for the new bud in its heart. 



74 



Shadows we find where'er we roam 

From whitest flower to whitest cloud ; 
Shadows, not symbols. Mary came 

Alone with spotlessness endowed, 
In her God built his crystal home 

And sought what He found not above, 
A heart where burned in one pure flame 

A maiden's and a mother's love. 



75 



HUMILITY 

HE fairest soul with its brilliancy, 
Like a blanching star on the brow of day, 
Is dimmed in the face of Deity 
And shorn of its lustre fades away. 



76 



NOVEMBER AND DECEMBER 

X HE chill of these drear days is in my blood, 
Creeping thro' all the myriad ways of sense, 
And numbs the heart. The unkind elements 

Drive me in gladness to my fire of wood. 

Is it the chill alone that works this mood 
Within me or the visions vanished hence, 
Leaving on tree and field sad evidence 

Of Summer's beauty and of Autumn's good? 

December, come and with thy sharper breath 
Make clear the sky and bright the gloomy air, 
Sweeping the mists from mouldering woods 

and fells; 
Unstrip the world of draperies of death. 
Spread your own crystal glories everywhere. 
And wake the saddened heart with Christmas 

bells. 



77 



WHY NOT? 



o> 



H, may sadness quit the soul of you, 
And gladness have control of you, 
And solace soothe the whole of you, 

This blessed, blessed day! 
'Tis her spirit you inherit 
And her good, warm heart you share it, 
Tho' far is dear old Ireland, far away. 



78 



THE VOICES OF THE IRISH ^ 

A. HE Voices of the Irish!" Hear them still, 

Great Saint, not crying from one island's 

shore, 

But echoing heavenward the whole world 

o'er, 

Far from the green of Erin's vale and hill! 

Pulpit or Parliament their strong tones fill; 

Hark, they outshout the cannon's rancorous 

roar; 

Hotly they barter on trade's crowded floor. 

And home and cloister with their sweetness 

thriU. 

Lose not one whisper of one Irish voice! 

Ah, multiply thy old apostleship 

And T£u*a's cooUng embers reinspire! 

All saddened eyes will brighten and rejoice. 

And every hand be pure and every Up, 

When every heart is lit with thy new 
fire. 



79 



THE TEACHER 

A. IRED, tired, he flings a truth to some 
small class; 
One soul's deep sparkles; then, alas, is still. 
Not so! Afar the widening ripples pass. 
And all life's currents with that one truth 
thriU. 



80 



TO MOTHER M. XAVIER^ 



B, 



'LESS with the splendor white of God's 

new shrine 
Your golden yield of half a century ; 
And, Mother, for past days and days to be 
Let love fulfilled and promised love entwine 
In praise and pledges, while the vested line 
Of blessing priests and cloistered charity 
Fill with the grateful voice of jubilee 
The hallowed arches and the spires divine. 
Hark! echoes answer from an ampler dome 
Where healed and fed and taught and child- 
hearts cry 
Their joyous thanks for all your toil and 
tears: 
Temple of charity, God's earth-wide home, 
Whose base is everywhere, whose roof the 
sky, 
Whose sacrifice you are these fifty years. 



8i 



BE MY VALENTINE! 



Y, 



OUR valentine? Be a caricature, 
Where horrible scrawls and daubs combine 
A laugh to raise or a fault to cure? 
Thus shall I be your valentine? 

Your valentine? Be a madrigal. 
Protesting devotion in every line, 

With ribbons and lace about it all? 
Thus shall I be your valentine? 

Your Valentine? Be that martyr Saint, 
Whose heart died throbbing with love divine, 

Who shall hearten your soul if it droop and 
faint? 
Oh, thus should I be God's Valentine. 



82 



VANITY OF VANITIES 

HE irised bubble but glints and breaks: 
There is vapidness stored in the new-made 

wine; 
The sunsets gloom where the red dawns shine, 
And bUght taints the bud ere its beauty wakes. 

The sad lips quiver in laughter loud ; 
In your very welcome you kiss and part; 
You can sense its hush in the throbbing 
heart, 
And your swaddling clothes foretell your 
shroud. 

The lusciousness tempts your enamored eyes; 

Your hps are Hquid with riUs of bUss; 

You taste and, alas, hear the mocking hiss, 
And a flaming sword hides Paradise. 



83 



TEMPTATION 



w> 



HILE the scurrying rack of the storm- 
cloud sweeps 
Across the spirit's darkened deeps, 
Rebellious to the wiU's control, 
O'er all the rout as it hurries by 
Shines ever fair the untroubled sky 
In loftier heights of the ruling soul. 



84 



ON HELVRING LOUD LAUGHTER 



Y, 



OU laugh too loud and far too bravely 
flaunt 
Your mirth that rustles with the stiffness 

crude 
Of new-worn fabrics, fitting not the mood 
Like homeher joys that feel no need of vaunt. 
You laugh too loud — as if with sound to 
daunt 
Misgivings dark that o'er the spirit brood, 
Or with forced boasts to steel the heart pur- 
sued 
By sad remorse and cowed by spectres gaunt. 
Secure in their own permanence, true joys 

Want not the over-loud advertisement 
Of laughter, ever on the verge of noise, 

To keep them hving, but in hushed content 
They dwell, in all that wondrous equipoise 
Of master soul and sense in service bent. 



85 



A WISH 



M, 



.AY sorrows rest upon thy breast 
As lightly as the shadows rest 

Upon a flowing stream ; 
May all thy ways and all thy days 
Be bright as sunny river ways 

And with life's currents teem! 



FOREBODINGS 

X HE sun went down in the Western sky, 

And the broad, dark tide of night 
Came surging in across the world. 
And drowned in its flood were day and light. 

A wind came out of the Western hills 
And stirred the shadowy leaves with its 
breath; 

In the heart of the wind was a chill and a fear 
As if it breathed from the lips of death. 

I closed the door with a careful hand 
And warmed my heart with the fire-side 
gleams, ^ 

Lest the shadows that on my spirit fell 
Should brood on the path of my dreams. 



87 



THE RAINBOW 

HE glad sun flashes a golden face 
Thro' the fleeting drops of rain; 
And the rainbow, hope, by sweet heaven's 
grace 
Crowns the tears of earthly pain. 



88 



THE VICTORY 

J_jET all time's saddening misbelief march 
out, 
Dreams of false science, brilliance of dissent, 
Unriddled facts, whatever subtleties invent 
To drive faith's weakness to the edge of rout; 
Let loose the deadly phalanxes of doubt 
Madly to storm at every battlement, 
While all the hideous air is rent 
With jeering mockery and blatant shout. — 
Then baffled reason seems to yield retreat ; 
But should the soul chill to the touch of 
death 
Or bleed with some deep wound of grief, 
Tho' the dazed mind were crushed by trampling 
feet. 
The yearning heart would whisper with last 
breath ; 
"Lord, I believe; help thou my unbelief." 



89 



PROMISE 



s. 



'0 red a rose 
There never was seen, 

As when it shows 
Thro' the bud-bars green. 



90 



A GROWTH OF MANY YEARS 



I 



SEE a scene of twenty years ago. 
Is it a branch ridged with belated snow; 
Or the first waters of the tide of Spring 
That here on high a fringe of foam upfling; 
Or prophet of the dawn from Winter's night 
Threading one dark cloud's edge with prescient 

white; 
Or strings of pearl on pearl set on a spray, 
From strange deeps dredged, from flower-shell 

torn away? 
Look, 'tis a bridal wreath, and I alone 
Am blessed to view the bride that Spring has 

won! 
White petals, promising a June's red yield, 
You came to richer fruit on stranger field. 
I saw a shad-bush flower years ago. 
And every day new visions from it grow. 



91 



FAITH 

HE dim short vision of the eye 
Cannot aspiring hearts control 
Or narrow to its Httle sky 
The wide horizon of the soul. 



92 



AND HIS OWN LIFE ALSO 



w, 



HAT, must I ever whet the altar knife, 
My God and Father? Oh, relent, relent! 
Wouldst Thou have every tie be rudely rent, 
Of blood, of friendship, mother, child or wife? 
Must heart-beat with its fellow beat have 
strife. 
And will the edge of war's arbitrament 
Thro' raw, thro' quick, thro' quivering soul 
be sent, 
Unto the parting of my life from life? 
Alas! but Thou wilt have it so with me. 
Blending sweet solace with the bleeding 
smart. 
And forging weakness to the strength of 
Christ, 
Bleak Bethlehem, and darkest Calvary, 
And spear that slays the slain, teach my 
faint heart: 
Love is best love when love is sacrificed. 

93 



THE HEAVENS ARE TELLING 



G. 



OD tells the story 
Of His lore and glory 

In the Hght of the stars above; 
But hark to the beat 
Of His Heart repeat 

The tale of His wondrous love. 



94 



ALL THINGS UNTO GOOD 



E 



ATHER, who clasp a son's unanswering 
hand; 
And, mother, counting over one by one 
The laggard hours since she you loved has 
gone 
And left you with the dust of all you planned; 
And, every heart, where love is ht and fanned 
Or dies to ashes cold ; and you, undone 
With Magdalen's excess nor yet rewon; 
Oh, be not blind, look up and understand! 
The iris ghttering on the stagnant pool, 
All hues that wake love's smiling or love's 

tears, 
Splendid in cloud or sordid in the clod, — 
Heaven's shattered glories — put your hearts 

to school 
And glean for you the shadowy gleam of 

years 
To winnow thence the sunlight love of God. 

95 



CONFIDENCE 



I 



SEE not far thro' the gloom of the night; 
And shadows lie thick on the path I tread; 
'Tis step by step with my lantern light; 
But God is there in the dark ahead. 



96 



TO A PORTRAIT 

DAUGHTER should shine within thy 

gracious eyes, 
And o'er thy lips the gleams of gladness play 
Forever, and a rapturous joy array 
Thy face in glowing dawn's resplendent guise. 
Part not those hps in sorrow's faintest sighs. 
No! there should sweet mirth ripple all the 

day, 
As in a sun-ht spring, bubbling away 
Thro' golden sands, the silver waters rise. 
Say not such kindUness conceals a tomb. 
Or that a sad heart chokes mirth's fountain- 
head 
Or veils the radiant source of joy in gloom. 

Forbid it. Lord, whose Heart, uncomforted 
For our content, went throbbing to Its doom 
And wore the brow of calmness, while It 
bled. 



97 



SANCTITY 



A. 



.CROSS the soul the rays 
Of purer sunlight enter in; 
And lo! the startled gaze 
Detects the floating motes of sin. 



e8 



SWEET CHARITY 

HE sunlight floods the granite's face 

And gilds each gi'anite nook, 
Eager to peer in every place 

And catch an answering look — 
One answering look for all its beams 

In recompense to take. 
Lo! back a glance of radiance gleams, 

Flashed from a mica flake. 

Ah, Christian love is lavish too 

In golden showers pom'ed, 
Earnest to rival and outdo 

The largess of the Lord — 
The largess of His crimsoned cross, 

Which taught sweet charity 
To seek, to find mid wastes of dross 

Gold grains of brilliancy. 



09 



ST. VALENTINE'S DAY 

HE firelight of Christmas has danced in 
your home. 
And its flickering gave you a merry heart; 
The sunlight of Easter shall dancing come, 
And peace to all of the world impart. 

There is space between for the Messenger 
Saint, 
For Valentine, foe of all enmities, 
Who shall feed love's fire that it grow not faint, 
While the days are faring from mirth to 
peace. 



100 



THE TEiMPLES OF THE SPIRIT 



T, 



HE great cathedrals of the olden time 
Were centuries in building. Many a hand 
Laid stone on stone, and many a master 
planned 
Each glorious part from base to belfry chime. 
Ages of faith, which reckoned it a crime 

With hurried heaps of rock to weight the 

land! 
Building for God, they built His temple 
grand 
With lavishness of years, with art sublime. 

Loyola with the same large faith and trust 
Bade us put length of Hfe and wealth of love 
Into the temples of his modeUing. 
No one day's tinsel, made to-morrow's dust, 
Could satisfy his master-mind, which strove 
For ever greater glories of his King. 



lOI 



PRAYER 



F, 



IRED by a tiny spark of love, 
Yet may some dull cold grains of prayer, 
Send widening clouds to heaven above 
And spread a fragrant incense there. 



102 



BLOOD-ROOT 

HE starry blood-roots from the earth have 
flashed, 
Some clustering in snow-white galaxies, 
Some in lone splendor 'neath the trees. 
Whose bare boughs still by boisterous winds 

are clashed. 
Awhile in modest loveliness abashed 
They scarce disclose their beauties to the 

breeze ; 
Awhile — and then bedraggled fineries, 
Stamens and petals disarrayed are dashed 
Downward at every breath. Could they and 

aU 
Earth's charms stay ever young and promising, 
Ever with budding joys that never pall, 
The heart enthralled would there contented 

cHng; 
But, ah, for us the flowers of promise fall 
And never comes again our faded Spring. 

io3 



OBEDIENCE 



w, 



HAT care I who the bearer be 
That lifts the flag on high; 
I follow fighting where I see 
God's standard in the sky. 



io4 



REAPING THE WHIRLWIND 



I 



NSENSIBLY the whisper of the breeze 
Comes thro' the wood. A moment and no 

more 
The light leaves sway, then dangle as before, 
And hushed are drooping millions on the trees. 
But hurrying on with gathered energies, 
Mark how that wind o'er distant lands may 

roar, 
Lash the white breakers on the rocky shore 
And strew with scattered wrecks the stormy 

seas. 
When the first throbs of feeUng subtly glide 
Thro' drowsy hates or loves and sound their 
call. 
Insistent that the lawless brood obey. 
They are wind-whispers of a whirlwind day 
When passion may make havoc far and wide 
And a wild tempest ruin and scatter all. 



io5 



THE FROST 

OUCHING woods with wonder, 

Tints of gold and red; 
Cleaving burs asunder, 

Brown nuts' ermine bed; 
Spinning webs of crystal, 

Where the pools Ue still; 
Making green spears bristle 

Up the wind-swept hill; 
Solvent sweet and tender, 

Should fruits Knger yet; 
Forging tinkling splendor 

On the boughs rain-wet; 



io6 



Blanching fervid breathing 

Intx) vaguest snow; 
Cheek and cheek enwreathing 

With Ufe's ruddy glow; 
Blessings thickly cluster, 

O'er a wide world tossed; 
Music, hue and lustre — 

Well done, God's good frost I 



107 



A PRAYER 



M. 



.AY never an evil do you wrong, 

Prays myself for yourself; 
And sweet be your ears with Irish song, 

Prays myself for yourself; 
Ten thousands of friends around you throng; 
The clasp of their hands be warm and strong; 
The love of their hearts enfold you long, 

Prays myself for yourself. 



io8 



IN MEMORIAM 



IN VAIN 



M. 



OTHER, how often do I close my eyes, 
Struggling with memories of time or place, 
To see before my heart thy dearest face 
In all its Uving loveUness arise! 
But vain, forever vain love's enterprise! 
One only image can my mind retrace; 
There — there — within the coffin's strait- 
ened space 
Thy likeness cold in death before me lies. 
Why did I take that last sad view of thee, 
And let the shadow of the tomb echpse 
All visions which my earlier days suppUed? 
Else still thy fondest gaze were bent on me, 
And still thy tender cheeks, thy smihng Ups 
With mother's love for me were glorified. 



Ill 



W. J. D. 

X HE bloom has paled to purple on his cheek; 

The light has darkened in his eyes; 
The Hps no longer part to speak; 
Death has its prize; 
He is gone. 
The busy mart of thought is stilled, and dead 

The fire that in the heart was bright; 
The sunht hopes of youth have fled 
Before the night; 
He is gone. 
We think him near; we turn to see his smile 

And hear his cheery voice ; or seem 
To touch his hand, but all the while 
We idly dream — 
He is gone. 



112 



Gone with the calmness born of trusting faith, 

Gone with his parting breath a prayer, 
Out through the noiseless gates of death 
Away from care, 
He is gone. 
Yet memory can a restful solace give, 

His nature still can with us stay. 
And in a hundred modes can live. 
His kindly way. 
Who is gone. 
If what we loved in him becomes our own. 

If all his winning gentleness 
Be ours, until we still our moan 
And feel it less 
That he's gone. 
And thus in time with prayer for one so dear, 

It may seem like old days again 
Ere we had ever thought to hear 
That sad refrain. 
He is gone. 



ii3 



SAMUEL H. FRISBEE, SJ. 

I 

HE hidden wild flowers die in loveKness 
Unplucked, and forest silences with song 
Reechoing not for long — ah! not for long — 
Are hushed to their primeval silences. 
None now wiU dare untrodden paths to guess, 
Or wandering win new joy in guessing wrong ; 
None now will lead afield the studious throng 
Till nature soothes their cares with sweet 

caress. 
We bear it that he does not call the roll, 
That tireless steps have gone their last long 
walk, 
That we are loitering guideless at the 
start; 
But oh, dear God, we miss his childlike soul. 
Which bubbled forth in rills of cheery talk; 
We mourn the song and sunshine of his 
heart. 

ii4 



II 

The bond that bound us in true brotherhood 
Of song and joyance over plain and hill 
Is snapt. The heart of all our hearts is still, 

And a sharp pang has chilled the circling blood 

That warmed from it. Must we by field and 
flood 
Wander no more or quaff the distant rill 
No more? Hark! Heard you not the 
warning shrill 

To meet our guide ahead within the wood? 

Alas! too far ahead! The woodland springs 
Have lost their sweetness; gloom our way 
bedims, 
And laughing song is hushed to a sad 
moan. 
Oh, guide along the path to higher things, 
ReveaHng Uving streams and angel hymns, 
You are ahead with God, and we, alone! 

ii5 



TO A MOTHER 



Bi 



•RENDA, Brenda, 

Thwarted bud of flower, 
Crushed to rarer fragrance, 

Weakened unto power! 
Sounding depths of sweetness, 

In a mother's heart, 
Which hid unguessed treasures 

To less searching art; 
In a father's sternness 

Baring seams of gold; 
Winning to thy weakness 

Hundreds to enfold ; 
Sobering life's folly 

By the cloud of fears; 



ii6 



Tempering life's laughter 

In a bath of tears; 
Pity filled its fountains; 

Love leaped into flame; 
Knighthood donned its armor. 

When thy frailness came. 
Time grows fruit of evil, 

What shall heaven grow? 
God witheld so much, dear. 

What shall God bestow? 
Brenda, Brenda, 

Unblown bloom of flower, 
Yielding heavenly fragrance, 

Weakened unto Power! 



117 



TO A YOUNG PATRIOT 

Killed at Vera Cruz, April 21, i9iU 

J_>/ANIEL, Judea's seer, gave him high 

sight, 
To view through mists of blood the dawn of 

light; 

And Aloysius, Italy's white bloom, 
Upheld him to his sacrificial tomb; 

And Haggerty unloosed the lava fires 
That flowed volcanic from his Irish sires. 

America, take thou the garnered yield 
Of Christian, Catholic and Celtic field I 



ii8 



SEMPER PARATUS 

In memory of William O'Brien Pardow, S.J. 



s. 



'OLDIER, thy voice rang out across the 

strife, 
A shrill rebuke to laggards in the fray, 
Or trumpeted My summons to obey, 
Thrilling the wearied brave with conquering 

life. 
Healer, thy whispered lore with health was rife; 
Thy gentle touch probed to the soul's decay 
And plucked the menace of its death away 
Beneath the sweet, sharp kindness of the knife. 
Onward the fight to newer regions rolls; 
The wounded seek out other charity, 
TraveUng beyond the comfort of thy word. 
My pulpit knight, physician of My souls, 
Come, thou must let them pass; come now 
to Me! 
Art thou then ready? "I am ready. 
Lord." 

119 



"DEATH AND THE SCULPTOR" 

A monument by Daniel Chester French 

J3RING not frail blossoms with your dread 
intent 
To stay, dark death, the sculptor's eager 
hands; 
The sphinx is his unwithering monument, 
Immortal mystery on the shifting sands. 



120 



VERSES 



SURSUM CORD A 1 



R, 



.ISE, ever upward, rise, aspiring soul I 
Pause only for brief breath and keener zest 
Where vistas glimpsing wider interest, 
Thrill with the prescience of a perfect goal. 
Up, up! EncircUng views still, still unroll! 
Scale cliffs and peaks until both east and 

west 
And south and north the vision unreprest 
Soars like an eagle with a world's control. 
Cease not aspiring, but still upward rise 
Spurning hfe's precipices with high strife, 
Conquering far o*er the conquered steeps 
you trod 
Until you roll away entombing skies, 
And win the pinnacles of endless Hfe, 
Enraptured with an unhorizoned God. 



123 



THE HEART OF A VALENTINE 



A, 



XL parted friends are too far apart 

And over their parting repine, 
And they borrow the flaring hues of art, 

And they glean the poet's most ardent line, 
And meet in the gift of a crimson heart, 

In the heart of a valentine. 

But you and I fairer messages send 

And holier bonds intertwine ; 
Our mutual prayers shall meet and blend 

In a try sting place divine; 
And the heart of a friend greet the heart of a 
friend 

In the heart of St. Valentine. 



124 



HOMER 



H. 



.OMER, no grander music rolls than thine, 
Nor sweeter, fresher numbers ever flowed. 
The brook's clear murmur on its pebbly road 
And ocean's thunder sound along thy line. 
Bright too as changeful rays of sunset shine 
From out some darkening cloud, thy light 

has glowed 
Thro' the sole rent of clouded time, and 
showed 
Thy soul's creations human and divine. 
No lips, Greek bard, e'er moulded gentler song, 
Nor ever voiced a measure more subUme. 
Hence all that wondrous world of thine 
became 
The land of poetry; its people throng 
The lordUest verse of every tongue and 
clime; 
Yet thou, they strangely say, art but a 
name. 

125 



QUEEN OF THE EVANGELISTS 



D 



AY by day in living letters written, 
Love and sorrow tracing each its part, 
Slowly grew a mother's life of Jesus, 
Mary's fuller gospel of the heart. 



126 



IN PRAYER 

lORD, when in quiet prayer, I go apart 
To speak to Thee, my busy thoughts begin 
To gossip of the world; and hurrying in 
On every side, hopes, fears most strangely start 
Within me. Far, too far from me Thou art, 
Altho' my deafened soul would gladly win 
A hushed repose from all this worldly din, 
A silent talk with Thee, from heart to heart. 
God, Thou wilt be kind, divinely mild; 
For whilst my spirit thus confusedly 
Wanders, Thou art its goal and Thou 
alone — 
So, like a mother with her toddling child. 
Catch up the heart that stumbles towards 
Thee 
And take it in both hands unto Thine 
own. 



127 



THRO' A GLASS IN A DARK 

MANNER 



N, 



OT where His stars are spilt in golden 

dust, 

Not in the stately march from hour to hour 

Of myriad suns, nor where the dark clouds 

lower, 

Masking the flash, the peal, the storm's swift 

gust, 
Nor on great seas, nor where land's quaking 
crust 
Spurts lava and spouts death in ashy 

shower, — 
Not there alone in His gigantic power, 
Do we revere the God in Whom we trust; 



128 



Nay, He is God of fruits and sunlit day, 
God of the flowers and clasping hands of 
earth, 
Who moulds the marvels of a mother's 
heart, 
Yet, Love all beauteous, in created clay 
Thou couldst not set a semblance of Thy 
worth. 
Only a silhouette of what Thou art. 



139 



ADORATION 

jO, lightly swayed by the summer winds 
Swings many a censer of silver and gold; 
And the fragrance poured from the flowers of 
earth 
To heaven in grateful love is rolled. 



i3o 



IN A CHURCH 

When first lighted by electricity 



F, 



LAMING corollas round great disks of 
snow 
And silver trefoils fashioned all of light 
Flash out their molten petals on the night. 
A field of flowers! How wondrous do they 

blow! 
What splendors from their burning faces flow! 
Splendors, which would unveil the statue's 

sight, 
Deceive the sculptured angels into flight, 
And poured thro' parting eyehds set aglow 
Their hearts of stone, did they not slumber 
deep 
Enraptured with the glory of the Lord, 
The snow-white radiance of eternity. 
Dream on, fixt forms; and we'U away to reap 
What further harvests Nature may afibrd 
And pour them at God's feet unstintingly. 

i3i 



REMORSE 



I 



SEARCH my heart in the morning sun 
For the passion that burned there bright, 
And naught I find save a pale, thin moon, 
The ghost of a vanished night. 



182 



THE MARVELS OF HYGIENE 



B 



'ENIGHTED pagans of a purblind age, 
You thronged Rome's shows on mangled 

limbs to gloat, 
Untaught by ancient narrowness to note 

What loftier lessons might your minds engage! 

Our modern showmen cry, with thrift more 
sage: 
"Hygiene thro' sin can sanctity promote. 
Teach meekness by the sHtting of a throat 

And virtue from adulteries on the stage." 

"Let me this hygienic lore impart," 
Begs Satan in his last and best disguise; 

"Put cautiousness for conscience in the heart, 
And flame the eager blood thro' curious eyes; 

Then, look, the rash fruition of desire 

Will risk disease or death or hell's long fire." 



i33 



MY STANDARD 

HE soldier loves his tattered flag. 
Shall Christ's Heart win less love from me? 
Bravely It bears the wounds of fight 
And bleeds with love's full victory. 



i34 



"HISTORY IN A BACK YARD''^ 



w, 



HAT, that back yard? Oh, some few 
feet of sward. 
No, not a lawn! That name were quite too 

fine. 
'Tis grass, whereon the random smibeams 
shine 
With shifting, leafy shadows motley-marred; 
No marvels will the hm'ried glance reward. 
Mulberry, poplgo*, maple, a poor vine, 
Odd flowers, one fence along a neighbor's 
line, — 
That's all! Those are the treasures of the 

yard. 
So had we thought, dear friend, but you uplift 
The veil of custom from our purblind gaze; 
You from your garden's garnered placers sift 

Gold grains of truth, the driftage of all days; 
And we may see thro' your divining gift 
New Eldorados in undreamt-of ways. 
i35 



TOO SOON! 

For a picture of the Infant Jesus 
on a Cross 



M 



.Y Jesukin, why such a crib? 

Let mother's sweet love fondle Thee; 
Upon her breast Thy resting place 

And there Thy chalice be. 
Alas, that thou shouldst bring the Cross 

To Bethlehem from Calvary I 



i36 



THE WAY TO BETHLEHEM 



I 



ASK not the call of a silver star 
With a cold beam gleaming thro' the sky, 
When You would have my heart come nigh 

To be forever where You are. 

Nor hasten my steps with angel chants 
That daze with the wonders they reveal, 

Where half in fearfulness, half in trance, 
I am awed and in silent worship kneel. 

But win me with looks of new-bom eyes, 
With hands held out from a mother's breast, 
With weakness craving to be caressed. 

With the plaintiveness of life's first cries. 

Give me such summons, Lord, to obey, 
And my captive heart will be thrall to them. 

Ah, many Your calls, but be mine the way, 
To travel by love to Bethlehem I 



i37 



A CHRISTMAS WISH 



M. 



AY the hallowed dawn of Christ's dear 
birth 
Break white on the darkness drear; 
Bring Merry Christmas to gloomy earth 

Thro' the daylight of laughing cheer, 
And flood with noon splendor of simny mirth 
The whole of the coming year! 



i38 



A CHRISTMAS STAR 

lOOK, out of the sky thro' the dark of the 

night 
Dawns the quivering point of a star; 
One bright drop left of the wide dayUght 
That floods from a sun afar. 

And out on the hills where the night wind chills, 

A child to his mother has come, 
And his splendor pales in dim, earthly veils, 

Far away from his heaven and home. 

But give me the vision of Magi eyes 
Or the heart of the mother-maid. 

And one star-ray shall Hght heaven's day 
Where my Christ in His manger is laid. 



iSg 



OLD DAYS ON THE 
SUSQUEHANNA 

HERE'S a spot that memory hallows, 
With its stretch of pools and shallows, 
Where the turbid Lackawamia meets another 
river's roar, 
And tonight my saddened spirit, 
Seeks that childhood haunt and near it. 
Where I saw the Susquehanna in the days that 
are no more. 

Ah, in joy I still remember, 
How with comrades, Kthe and limber, 
Many a time we panting ran a hurried race 
along the shore; 
Then the luscious plunge and shiA^^er, 
And the splashing in the river. 
In the cooHng Susquehanna, in the days that 
are no morel . 



i4o 



There was swift or languid boating, 
Floating, fishing; fishing, floating, 
Till the hunger had made manna of the angler's 
frugal store, 
Till the tired hands thrilled with pleasure, 
Lifting in a strugghng treasure 
From the teeming Susquehanna in the days 
that are no more. 

Then I hear the bright steel ringing, 
And the songs when North winds stinging 
Spread a level ice savaima where the ripples 
sang before. 
Still I see the rapid races 
And the skaters' balanced graces 
On the frozen Susquehanna in the days that 
are no more. 



i4i 



Fair the streams of the Atlantic, 
Fair the Western streams gigantic, 
That down for Louisiana many mingled waters 
poiu-, 
They and other streams are famous, 
But their charms will never blame us 
If we love old Susquehanna in the days that 
are no more. 

Many a lad now long has slumbered, 
Many a comrade now is numbered 
With the hosts that sing hosanna, with the 
angels that adore ; 
Yet tho' hushed their merry voices, 
Memory hears them and rejoices, 
Hears them by the Susquehanna in the days 
that are no more. 



l42 



So let hours be dark with sadness, 
I can Ught them up with gladness, 
By my dreams of Pennsylvania and of friends 
I knew of yore; 
And my worn and weary spirit 
Finds a solace that will cheer it, 
In the good old Susquehanna and the days 
that £ure no more. 



i43 



MIRACLES 

HE comets cross our ordered sky 
From some far off beyond, 
Obedient to a greater law 
And swung upon a larger bond. 



i44 



A REQUEST 

VyH, you have seen him coming thro' the 
door, 
While, crying, " Mother, look at this — and 
thisi" 
He spread a few fomid treasm'es on the floor, 
And gazed upon cheap trifles with proud 
bliss. 
Then you, aJl kindness for the love you bore. 
Looked thro' his eyes and saw not aught 
amiss. 
This is my all, the trinkets of my store; 

So look on mine as you have looked on his. 



i45 



AT LAST 



s 



OME day a year will be begun, 
Launched like a ship into the sea, 

And glide down the tide 
Nor ever another be launched for me. 

Sometime a month its race will run; 
And day on day go hurrying past 

With beat of swift feet, 
But not my ears shall hear the last. 

Some morn a dawn will flood the East; 
And ruddy hours will surge to white 

Till day ebbs away; 
But I shall not be there at night. 



i46 



Some hour, their folded wings released, 
A flock of minutes, sadly few, 

Alas, will all pass 
And most escape one straining view. 

Some moment — ah, when must it be? — 
Will flame into a sudden spark. 

Nor die to the eye 
Ere I shaU fade into the dark. 

So every day there slips by me, 
Like an assassin in the gloom, 

With blade aU arrayed. 
The destined second of my doom. 



i47 



NOTES 

* What an Irishman Means by Machree has been put 
to music by George A. Gartlan and pubKshed by Leo 
Feist, New York City. 

2 The Service Flag is written to the air, The Top of 
the Morning (O'Neill's Music of Ireland, No. 1571, 
p. 291). Both words and music are published by the 
author of the present work. Oliver Ditson Co., Bos- 
ton, publish the words and music of The Flag of Our 
Skies. 

' Song for Fordham Men is written to the air. Ye Na- 
tives of this Nation, an old Jacobite marching song, found 
in Joyce's Old Irish Folk Music and Songs, No. 33, p. 19. 

* The Voices of the Irish. — "I read the heading of 
the letter which contained the words, ' The Voice of the 
Irish,' and methought I heard in my mind the voice of 
those who were near the wood of Focluth, which is by 
the Western Sea." — *S/. Patrick's Dream from his " Con- 
fessions." 

^ To Mother M. Xavier, written for the Golden 
Jubilee of the Sisters of Charity in New Jersey, which 
was celebrated by the dedication of St. Elizabeth's 
College Chapel. Mother Xavier was. for more than 
fifty years superior of the community she founded. 

^ " History in My Back Yard " is the title of an inter- 
esting brochure, revealing the history in common things 
and written by Dr. Lucy M. Salmon, Head of the Vas- 
sal History Department. 



i48 



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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




